


which is a tenderness, which is a room

by changgus



Category: ONF (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dry Humping, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Oral Sex, very loosely implied changyoon/other members, what if we were friends and then we went to switzerland and we kissed about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:55:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26229805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/changgus/pseuds/changgus
Summary: Maybe it wasn’t one thing. Maybe that’s not how it worked. Maybe it was a lot of little things, maybe it was going for samgyeopsal at the place down the block from the company building after a grueling practice and heading back smelling like smoke, and shuffling into the showers together when time and hot water didn’t permit it as a solo activity, and maybe it was all the touches, and the jokes, and the way Jaeyoung’s eyes crinkle around a laugh, how easy it is for Changyoon to make him laugh.
Relationships: Lee Changyoon | E-Tion/Shim Jaeyoung | Wyatt
Comments: 20
Kudos: 49





	which is a tenderness, which is a room

**Author's Note:**

> well if you follow me on twitter this is none of the things i've been teasing but brain has been a bit broken these days and i just watched the switzerland vlog and now we're here. a longer thing about hyojoon's berlin trip is also cooking but i needed to get this out of my system first i think. anyway, hope y'all enjoy!

“Hyung.”

Changyoon is still in the bathroom, trying to scrub out the chill from a day of filming in the rain. He’d spent far too long in the shower, steam curling, waiting for the water to seep into his bones. He’s tired, in that heavy sort of way where even keeping his eyes open is an effort, and he still feels a little bit gross from fending off bugs and cramping his legs into the tiny boat to get to the filming location. He’s running over his hair with a towel when he hears Jaeyoung’s voice drifting in.

“Hyung.” He’s louder this time. He’d let Changyoon take the first shower both out of respect as his dongsaeng and in acknowledgement of the fact that his main role of the day had been playing cheerleader and looking cute in his poncho.

Which is a thought Changyoon has steadfastly decided not to unpack, instead just letting it roll off his shoulders with everything else.

When he steps out of the bathroom, towel draped loose over his bare shoulders, he can see Jaeyoung sitting criss-crossed on his bed. The white sheets are messy and rucked up around his knees. He’s got the room service menu open in his lap, balanced over the same pants he’d been wearing since that morning.

“Hm?” Changyoon only says it so Jaeyoung knows he’s heard. In his mind he’s running through which sheet masks he’s packed and trying to think if there’s one that’ll put him to sleep.

It’s dark in their room, the only light yellow seeping from the bathroom behind him. Everything else is gray, blue, sleepy and fading gently into night. Jaeyoung flips a page in the menu.

“We should order something.” Jaeyoung is scanning the page with his finger. His hair is still gelled down and harsh across his forehead. “You worked hard today.”

Changyoon laughs but moves into the room so he can flop back on Jaeyoung’s bed too, legs dangling over the edge. He regrets it the second the damp towel presses into his neck but it’s his first time off his feet all day and he’s so tired.

“Read it to me.” 

Jaeyoung starts in stilted English, overexaggerating the syllables until Changyoon reaches over and pinches his side. “There’s, uh like, burgers and salad and stuff. A kid’s menu.” He smiles cheekily, looking down at Changyoon next to him.

“Yah,” Changyoon closes his hand into a fist and taps Jaeyoung again in the same spot. Jaeyoung closes his fingers around his wrist. Changyoon lets him. “Surprise me.”

He scoots back onto the bed fully while Jaeyoung orders on the phone. It feels weirdly domestic, just the two of them, quiet except for Jaeyoung’s steady voice and the sound of the receptionist crackling through the receiver, waiting for dinner after a long day.

Their first day in Switzerland had been their free one, their time to try to cram in as many tourist activities and trips to local markets as they could. He’d texted his mom a picture of the two of them together next to a fruit stand and she told him the way his glasses were pushed up on his forehead made him look like an ahjumma. Jaeyoung stood and held a plastic bag for him while he examined all the fruit, turning it in his palms to check for bruises.

He wishes they had more time. There’s a part of him that wants to just walk the streets outside their hotel, hands bumping together carelessly, while they talk about where to go for lunch.

Not that he was not excited about shooting, about the concept, he _was_. Totally. Completely. He just also felt like he maybe deserved a break after sitting in a tiny paddle boat and getting his butt wet and having to swat bugs away from his face for the better part of the day. That when he’d gotten back and his hair was sticking to his face with rainwater and he was shivering in his poncho and Jaeyoung had reached out to make him laugh, that he wanted to be dry and laughing with him in a quaint cafe somewhere too.

The hotel room feels like a bubble in a way, like whatever happens in here won’t follow them home. Everything feels smaller, narrowed down, like someone has taken a magnifying glass to Changyoon’s brain.

“Hyung, you should wash your face before I shower.”

Jaeyoung’s voice pulls him back into the room and he doesn’t even bother opening his eyes to look at him. “Don’t wanna.”

“I can still see all your makeup.” He reaches out and runs his knuckle over the curve of Changyoon’s cheek. It’s one of those things that shouldn’t feel as big as it does, but there’s something about being away from home that makes everything different. It’s easier to read into easy touches when there’s no one else there to see them.

Changyoon cracks one eye open, then pouts. “What if I don’t though?”

“Then I’ll tell everyone you’re gross.” 

Changyoon tilts his head to try to bite Jaeyoung’s finger and Jaeyoung reacts a beat too slow. It’s another thing that feels bigger than it should, his teeth on his skin.

“Fine.” He says, pulling away first.

He speedruns his skincare and finishes changing into his pajamas once he’s done. They’re navy blue and matching and make him feel more like a real person than he’s felt all day. When he gets out of the bathroom again, Jaeyoung is already half changed out of his clothes, rifling through his bag to find his own toiletries. 

The light from the bathroom washes golden over his bare skin where he’s taken off his shirt and Changyoon lets himself stare while Jaeyoung isn’t looking.

“I’m, uh, I’m done in there.” He says after a moment, feeling a little bit like the words are stuck in his throat on the way out. He doesn’t know when everything started feeling so big.

Maybe it wasn’t one thing. Maybe that’s not how it worked. Maybe it was a lot of little things, maybe it was going for samgyeopsal at the place down the block from the company building after a grueling practice and heading back smelling like smoke, and shuffling into the showers together when time and hot water didn’t permit it as a solo activity, and maybe it was all the touches, and the jokes, and the way Jaeyoung’s eyes crinkle around a laugh, how easy it is for Changyoon to make him laugh.

He busies himself while Jaeyoung showers. He pulls out a zip-lock of sheet mask packets from his suitcase and shuffles them until he finds one that sounds nice. He settles back into Jaeyoung’s bed because his is still made up from that morning and he’s not ready to ruin it yet.

His phone goes off somewhere in the sheets and he searches for it blindly, trying not to move his face too much so his mask doesn’t slip. It’s a text from Hyojin, checking in. He doesn’t know how to say _I’ve been having a lot of realizations about myself. Maybe this is what Kylie Jenner was talking about._ without it sounding weird or concerning so he sends a sticker of a bear sticking it’s tongue out instead. 

He flips between three different games, none of them holding his attention for more than a round, before letting his phone fall to his chest, letting his eyes close like he’s been wanting them to since they got up at the crack of dawn that morning.

Changyoon wakes to a knock at their door and barely remembers to pull his mask from his face before answering it. He pulls off his headband as he pulls the door open, shaking his hair out with his hand out of habit as if the room service man will care what he looks like, and tries to remember the stock phrases he’d heard Jaeyoung use before.

He can hear Jaeyoung humming in the shower as he tries to count out the cash their manager had handed them in an envelope pre-budgeted for the trip. He can’t remember if he’s supposed to tip or not, can’t remember if he even looked it up or had just made assumptions. No, he definitely looked it up. Once. Like a week ago. It’s probably better to just in case. He says ‘thank you’ four times as the man leaves.

“Jaeyoung-ah, dinner.” Changyoon calls through the door with a rap of his knuckles. 

He carries the plates carefully over to the desk to make more room. They usually try to go out when they travel, try to experience whatever place they’re in as much as they can, but today this feels like a reward. 

Changyoon is arranging the silverware just for something to do with his hands when the bathroom door clicks open and Jaeyoung comes out with his now gel free hair curling softly against his skin, still tinged pink from the heat of the water. His pajama pants hang low on his hips as he rearranges his things and he is so beautiful suddenly it makes Changyoon’s chest tight.

Jaeyoung pulls out his ipad while they eat, propping it up against the base of the desk lamp so they can both see. It is easy again. Changyoon breathes.

They pick something light and funny, something they’ve both seen but it still makes them laugh every time. They talk through it anyway, making their own jokes. Changyoon comes up with a whole bit about one of the background characters that has Jaeyoung slapping at his arm, laughter loud in his ear.

After they’re done, they sit cross-legged on Jaeyoung’s bed with the plastic bag of fruit from the market yesterday sat between them. Changyoon peels a tangerine in his fingers and they take turns picking out the pieces.

“Hyung, you’ve got-” Jaeyoung points to his own mouth with his finger, but then, without waiting, reaches forward and brushes his thumb across Changyoon’s lip. His hand is slow, dragging, Changyoon’s heart is beating under the pad of Jaeyoung’s thumb. “Juice. You had juice.”

He’s still cupping Changyoon’s face, fingers curled under his chin. 

It is the two of them, knees touching, Changyoon’s bare and Jaeyoung’s in flannel, it is the sweetness on Changyoon’s tongue, it is the last segment of tangerine curled loose in his fingers. It is a hundred tiny moments and it is Changyoon saying _If you want to kiss me so bad, just do it._ like he hadn’t been the one thinking about it all day.

When Jaeyoung licks into his mouth, tentative, he is tangerine-sweet.

He kisses him gentle, like Changyoon might take it back if he takes too much. His lips are a little bit tacky and a little bit chapped but it doesn’t matter. Jaeyoung is open for him, skates his hand from Changyoon’s chin into the back of his hair, tangling where it’s gotten long. He kisses him until they both start giggling, catching teeth instead of lips, and Jaeyoung pulls back.

His cheeks are blushed even in the dying light and Changyoon already wants to kiss him again. His chest is a hummingbird trapped in his rib cage.

“Jaeyoungie, I think you like me.” Changyoon teases, shoving at Jaeyoung’s knee. It’s easier to make a joke than to just say what he means.

“Of course I like you, hyung.” Jaeyoung dips his head when he says it, like it is both an obvious truth and a fragile thing that he is pressing into Changyoon’s palms.

“Yeah, but I think you _like_ like me.” He presses, he’s good at pressing. His voice is a song and it’s louder than the fluttering in his chest. He wants to hear Jaeyoung say it and mean it before he does. He wants to take the words and eat them. 

Changyoon doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he pops the last piece of tangerine into his mouth and chews around a smile. Jaeyoung swallows.

“If I tell you you’re right, can I kiss you again?”

“Well, that depends, am I right?” Changyoon wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and looks at Jaeyoung through his lashes. 

“I like you so, so much.” Jaeyoung cups his face again. His palms are rough against his skin but his hold is so soft, like Changyoon is something precious. Like he has so much more to say but doesn’t have the words to say it. 

Changyoon thinks back to earlier in the day, to stumbling off the boat and back onto the dock, to Jaeyoung shouting encouragements from across the shore and again when they were back on the same side, to Jaeyoung brushing the strands of hair out of his face. He wonders if Jaeyoung thought about kissing him then too.

“Good.” Changyoon tilts forward and closes the gap, brushing his mouth against Jaeyoung’s. “Glad we’re on the same page then.”

“Is that all you want to say?” Jaeyoung tilts his head as Changyoon drags his lips from his mouth to his jaw, tracing the lines.

“I could say more.” Changyoon kisses where his jaw meets his ear. He feels warm all over. He feels like he is simply too big for his body, outgrown it, in need of a new size. “Or I could show you.”

“Okay,” Jaeyoung digs his hand into the shoulder of Changyoon’s pajama shirt. “Okay, that.”

“But I do.” Changyoon moves down his throat. “Like you.” Another kiss, another drag of his lips. “If you wanted to know.”

“You’ve been staring.” Jaeyoung laughs, but it’s breathy, caught in his throat. “I’ve noticed.”

“I have not.” Changyoon pulls back so he can look at him. “You haven’t noticed shit.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

Jaeyoung kisses him full on the mouth. His earlier hesitation is gone, replaced by a giddiness instead. He pushes forward until Changyoon tilts onto his back, Jaeyoung on top of him, between his legs. Changyoon can smell his aftershave and his moisturizer, feels dizzy from how much it is just _him._

“You only know because I told you.” Changyoon says when Jaeyoung pulls away to nose at the point where his shoulder meets his neck.

“Mhm.” 

Changyoon wants to argue more, but Jaeyoung’s hands are on the buttons of his shirt and he’s looking up at him for permission and anything else he might have wanted to say dies on his tongue. Changyoon runs his hands through Jaeyoung’s hair while he works his shirt open. It’s gotten so short, soft under his hands. He likes it better unstyled like this.

Jaeyoung sucks a wet kiss just under his collarbone, low enough for any shirt to cover it, low enough for it to be a secret.

“I want to make you feel so good, hyung.” Jaeyoung’s voice pitches down as he says it. Changyoon feels like the vibration of it is ringing through his bones. “What do you want?”

“Anything, anything, just touch me.”

Jaeyoung scoots down the bed so he can get properly between his legs, trailing his lips down his chest as he goes. Each kiss is a confession, each press of his lips feels like loosening the knot. 

He takes his time on the soft skin above his waistband like being able to do so is a revelation. He takes him between his teeth and then soothes with his tongue. He bruises and heals. Changyoon is half hard in his shorts and he just wants to feel Jaeyoung’s hands, his mouth. He just wants Jaeyoung.

Changyoon reaches down and cradles Jaeyoung’s face, says “Kiss me again.”

So he does. He’s pressing Changyoon into the mattress, he’s pressing into his mouth. Jaeyoung rocks his hips down and that too feels like a revelation. 

There’s too much fabric between them, but the friction feels so good. Changyoon bucks up into it, hands scrambling for purchase against Jaeyoung’s back. He wants more. He slides his hands down the back of Jaeyoung’s pajama pants and digs his fingers in, drives his ass down to meet his hips.

Changyoon whines deep in his throat and Jaeyoung swallows it. Jaeyoung rolls his hips again, and again, dick dragging along Changyoon’s and his breath is going uneven. 

Over the years they’ve all found their outlets, there’s only so much you can do with your own hand. Changyoon has found himself pressed against their shower wall more than once, on his knees in one of the bedrooms. He has never done this with Jaeyoung.

“Can I try something?” He whispers against Changyoon’s lips, brushes the blond ends of his hair off of his face.

Changyoon nods, kisses him again.

Jaeyoung sits back on his heels and reaches for Changyoon’s waistband. Changyoon lifts his ass so Jaeyoung can pull his shorts, his underwear up over his thighs and then off completely. He’d thought he might feel self conscious like this, legs falling open, but he can’t, not with the way Jaeyoung looks at him.

He ducks his head down and presses his lips gentle against the side of Changyoon’s knee, and then moves up. Kisses the inside of his thigh, kisses the crux of his groin. He moves slow, languid. He switches to the other side and does it again. 

Changyoon feels like he is floating on a summer breeze, sun hot on his skin. He wants to live in this feeling.

When Changyoon whines, digging his hands into what he can grab of the sheets, Jaeyoung readjusts and licks a stripe up his cock. He drags his mouth up, open and wet, wraps his full lips around the tip and then swallows him down. 

“Ah, fuck,” Changyoon’s eyes flutter shut as he hits the back of Jaeyoung’s throat, feels it contract around him. He wants to watch, wants to see the way Jaeyoung’s lips stretch for him but at the same time he feels overwhelmed, can’t help but throw his head back and arch into it.

“Fuck, that’s good, Jaeyoung-ah.” Changyoon fists one hand in the sheets above his head, uses the other to pet the back of Jaeyoung’s head as he works. “Feels so good.”

Jaeyoung makes an unexpectedly high-pitched sound at the praise, changes up his rhythm. He’s moving desperately now like he wants to hear Changyoon say it again.

Changyoon doesn’t even really know what he’s saying as it’s coming out of his mouth, but he can’t shut up either, just lines of compliments pouring out, spurring Jaeyoung on. He bucks his hips up into the warmth of his mouth and his words keep catching on his breath but he can’t stop.

It doesn’t feel like Jaeyoung should be this good at this, he wants to ask him who taught him. 

“I’m close.” Changyoon manages when Jaeyoung takes him particularly deep and he struggles not to snap his legs shut around Jaeyoung’s skull. Jaeyoung just digs his fingers into his thighs and keeps going.

He swallows him down like it’s nothing, letting him fuck it out into his mouth.

Jaeyoung pulls off and sits up on his heels again, catching his breath. Changyoon grabs at his arms to pull him back down.

“Take these off.” Changyoon says around a kiss pressed to the corner of Jaeyoung’s mouth. He slips his hands back into his pajama pants, pushes until the fabric slides over his ass. Jaeyoung desperately kicks off the rest.

Changyoon turns and licks his palm, tongue flat, before reaching down and wrapping it around Jaeyoung’s cock. He kisses him as he works his wrist, runs his thumb up over the head, brushing over his slit. He knows this is not his finest work but it’s hard to focus when _Jaeyoung_ just let him come in his mouth.

They’re barely kissing at this point, just a messy slide of their lips, Jaeyoung groaning as he drives into the circle of Changyoon’s fist. He ends up coming on his hand, over his stomach.

He’s loud when he does and Changyoon wants to commit the sound to memory, wants to figure out every way he can drag it out of him.

Jaeyoung kisses him again, properly, before he’s springing up to go find his t-shirt from before. Changyoon watches him from the bed. It’s dark now, only the faint orange streetlights bleeding in through the curtains, but Changyoon catalogues the curve of his spine as he bends over, the way his body moves. He thinks he’s allowed to stare now.

Jaeyoung comes back to the bed and uses the shirt to wipe him off, says “Sorry about that.”

Changyoon laughs. “What the fuck are you sorry for?”

It makes Jaeyoung laugh too, a warm and deep sound on a normal day, but rough now from getting his throat fucked. It gives Changyoon chills.

He reaches out for Jaeyoung’s hand when he’s done and has tossed the shirt aside, uses the leverage to pull him down until his knees hit the mattress. Jaeyoung looks down at him with such warmth it makes him want to shrink away. Instead, he leans into it, like sapling to the sun, and pulls him down the rest of the way to curl together.

What will happen when they leave this room, when they are on that plane, or back in the dorm, Changyoon doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what options they even have, if putting words to it even matters. He does know that Jaeyoung’s back is solid, and that he likes the way their bodies fit together in the tangle of the sheets.

He thinks whatever’s next can wait.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/gayjinho) // [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/gayjinho)


End file.
